Battle Of Dying Heroes: Seven Years War
by GilbertOfPrussia
Summary: The War Of The Austrian Succession...Hetalia style!Based off the song s by Sound Horizon! Rated T for violence and language!
1. Interlude 1 Spain and Romano

Hooray! My second published fanfic! This one doesn't have any pairings, it's more. Historically accurate? I did a mountain load of research, role-played the whole thing with my friends, watched a couple videos, did some Hetalia research (don't ask!), and I had to put a lot together….so, yeah. If you haven't ever seen them, this is pretty much based off the videos by Sound Horizon (I _think_ that's what they're called,). I'm also not a very good author, so don't flame me!! Soooo…sit down, and enjoy! (Also, one slight note: One translation was: 'Fight of the heroes who will die', but 'Battle of Dying Heroes' sounded more heroic, so I used that. ^^) And this is also my first time writing from the second person! Rated T for violence and language and stuff like that. Also, the 'Interludes' are just there 'cause I like storytelling. (Or, um...something like that...)

Disclaimer: I don't own Axis Powers Hetalia or any of its characters!!

It's late, and you're in a hurry to get out of the darkness and into the bright, cheery pub, where there is always a warm fire, a cold beer, and an open door for all travelers.

One can't help feel uneasy, almost like you're being watched, and every rustle in the bushes or snapping of a twig sets your nerves on edge. So likewise, a wave of relief washes over you as you rush into the safety of the pub.

You take a seat as far as possible from the door and order a drink while waiting for your heartbeat to slow down. The bartender, a blonde Swiss with grass green eyes, nods in reply and starts to wipe down a glass with a dirty white rag. You want to mention something about this being _extremely _unsanitary, but decide against it when you notice the shotgun that is slung carelessly over his shoulder. He doesn't look like he'd be afraid to use it, either-

Your thoughts are cut off suddenly as the door swings open and two strangers enter the pub-a Spaniard and an Italian. "_Hola~!" _The Spaniard cries, and upon closer inspection, you can see that he has bright green eyes, tousled dark brown hair, tanned skin, and his plain white shirt appears to be covered in..blood???

"You're early." The bartender remarks, but you don't hear the Spaniards' reply, because you're too busy noticing that these two strangers are heading for _your_ table, and the only thing you can think is that this guy is a killer of some sort, and that you must be next on his hit list, (not that you've ever done anything to deserve it!) and then he takes a seat across from you, his Italian friend following almost reluctantly.

"_Hola, desconocido!"_ He exclaims, beaming all too brightly for a serial killer, but your mind is a little too panic-stricken at the moment to see reason. All that you can manage in reply is a small, terrified squeak the barely sounds human, and he leans forward in concern.

"_Dispénseme?_ Are you alright?" he asks, and by now you're wondering if begging for your life would do any good. Maybe at least he'd be merciful enough to make it quick and painless-

"Dammit Spain, _stai zitto! Non lo vedi che stai spaventando loro?_ _Idiota_ ..,.." Once again, your thoughts are interrupted, but this time it's by the fairer-skinned Italian. "Just ignore that tomato bastard. _Lui è un buono a nulla_."

"Aw, you're so cute, Lovi~" The Spaniard coos, earning a glare and a 'Don't call me that, dammit!' from his companion. "Besides, why would they have any reason to be afraid of _me?_" He smiles innocently as he says this, but you decide it must all be an act, and they're just waiting for you to let your guard down...

'Lovi' smirks at the others' density, and practically voices your thoughts: "Because you look like you've just murdered someone." He muses.

This causes the Spaniard to look down at himself, and he laughs lightheartedly. "But that's just tomato sauce, silly!" He finally turns to you, who have just been sitting there dumbfounded. "I'm sorry if I scared you! Call me Antonio!" He beams, holding out his hand.

You blink a few times to clear your head, and hesitate a moment before taking his hand and shaking it awkwardly. "Er...that's alright. Nice to meet you." You mumble, as the knot of panic in your stomach starts to untwist itself.

"Please, there has to be a way for me to make up for it! A story, perhaps?" He asks, his eyes shining.

You're just about to open your mouth in protest, but his enthusiasm is almost childish, and for some reason you can't find yourself able to say no to that face. So, you sigh and get comfortable, knowing that you certainly won't be home in time for dinner, and say, "Alright then." After all, who doesn't like a good story? (Besides, you really don't feel like running through the storm that has mysteriously started outside...)

So, with the lightning flashing almost dramatically outside, the Spaniard begins his story.

Yay, I finally finished it! Next chapter will finally start the war! R&R, please, if you want more story! I feel like I really butchered the Spanish and Italian languages in this chapter…so, here are some translation notes!

_Hola-_ Hello

_Hola, desconocido-_ Hello, stranger

_Dispénseme?_-Excuse me?

_stai zitto! Non lo vedi che stai spaventando loro?_ _Idiota-_ shut up! Can't you see you're scaring them?? Idiot… (Italian, obviously...)

_Lui è un buono a nulla-_ He's a good-for-nothing. (Ouch, harsh words, Romano!)

And that's all for now! Second Chapter will be up soon!


	2. Chapter 1 The War Begins

Okay, here's Chapter 2! I really don't have anything to say this time around, so let's _please_ get on with the story!!

League of Three Petticoats-Austria, France, and Russia

Disclaimer: I don't own Axis Powers Hetalia or any of its characters! Never have, never will!

The fools asked, why the king went to the battlefield where he wouldn't have the advantage of the terrain.

The wise knew, that there was no option but to fight in order to defuse such situations as being besieged by multiple armies.

The year was A.D. 1756, the Seven Years War.

The Diplomatic Revolution by Maria Theresa, who was the Queen of Austria at the time, led to the formation of the League of Three Petticoats.

Austria also gained Hungary, Saxony and Sweden as the allies. Their intention was to surround Prussia and regain Silesia.

"Our aid, we promise to give you. So let us advance southward, da?" were Russia's words.

"You shouldn't provoke the ladies (of the Petticoat League) one too many times." France added helpfully.

Holding the noble dual-headed eagle over their hearts,

"Let's march forward together! Our allied armies!"

In response to the threat, Prussia allied with England, went on a raid and, while advancing, invaded Saxony.

The jet-black banners were racing through the redding battlefield,

The heroes in Rosbach….

"March on forward, our brave countrymen!!"

Wow..that was shorter then I expected! Still, it was a lot of fun to write! It's _far_ from over, though! The other chapters will be _much_ longer!

R&R?


	3. Interlude 2 Canada

Well, I've finally got the next chapter up! Hooray! And this one's with Canada! Also, I need your opinions! Who should be next, France or Russia??

Disclaimer: I don't own Axis Powers Hetalia. Never have, never will! ^^

****

Sometime during the story, you look up and notice that you're being watched by someone from across the room. He's a tall (strawberry) blonde with blue eyes hidden by glasses, and he's just sitting there awkwardly by his lonesome, tightly hugging…a polar bear???

Although you don't want to interrupt the story, you point the stranger out to Antonio, so he pauses and looks up.

"What do you mean?" he asks, peering over the table. "There's no one there!"

"Yeah there is!!" you say defiantly, absolutely _positive_ that you aren't going crazy. "Hey! Excuse me!" You call to the stranger. "Um..do you want to come sit over here?" You ask, once you have his attention, gesturing towards the empty chair.

As he nods and gets up to come over, it seems that the other two have _finally_ noticed him. "Oh, I know him!" Antonio beams. "That's Alfred!"

"Actually, I'm Matthew…" the stranger says, taking the open seat and sighing. "Alfred's my twin brother. People always mistake me for him. I'm used to it." He adds, before the Spaniard can apologize.

"Oh….well, I can't believe I didn't notice you! Nice to meet you, Matthew! I was just telling a story! Care to join us?"

"Um…alright! Thank you!" he agrees, seeming happy to be included. "Are the telling the one about the Austrian Succession again?"

"Actually, I was! Mind reader, are you? Would you like to tell the next bit? You know it better than I do, after all!"

"You really think so? S…Sure! I'd love to! Er….what part were you on, then?"

"The Battle of Kunersdorf."

You look back and forth between the two of them, not understanding a word. "History freaks…" you mutter, leaning back to return to the story.

"Well, I'm not _that_ good at storytelling, but…"

****

Hoorah, it's done! Reviews are much appreciated, and will be rewarded with pasta and ice cream!

Prussia: *pokes* Hey! How come I'm not in this chapter?? It needs more awesomeness!!


	4. Chapter 2: The Battle of Kunersdorf

Next chapter! Yayz! I think that this one's a little better then the first one…it's easier to do when I have dialogue to work with! Haha….well, on with the show!

Disclaimer: I don't own Axis Powers Hetalia! Never have, never will!

****

A.D. 1759, in the month of August, the Battle of Kunersdorf

A total of eighty thousand soldiers that consisted of the Austrian army led by Landon, along with the Russian army, joined together near Kunersdorf.

The Prussian army led by Frederic II, which consisted of forty-five thousand soldiers, crossed the Oder river in the southern part of Kustrin.

Proudly waving the flag of the black eagle, they marched on….

_And when the vicious storm myself quarry finds,_

_Night be aroused in the lightning's glow,_

_Which hast but already, anger in hand, been wrought 'gainst the world. _

_But what trembeled not, was the Prussian courage._

_Rock may break and oak tree shatter, I will not tremble:_

_It shall blow, it shall crash, flashes of lightning wildly cross the sky:_

_I am a Prussian, I will a Prussian be._

_Strongly feuded for, fiercely fought for._

_You lie in the middle of the Continent_

_Like a strong heart._

_Since the early days of the ancestors, you have_

_Borne the burden of a high mission._

_Much tried Austria…_

The battlefield was burning.

Soldiers were falling.

The king was targeted.

The approaching enemy, while squeezing the trigger on horseback, aimed at his prey.

A bullet was fired, grazing the king's military uniform. The king fell from his horse.

Out darted a man, repelling the blade which swept down towards his king.

Finally, the two men faced each other…

"Roderich!" The Prussian cried. "What are you doing to my precious king?"

"You fool!" The Austrain retorted as he charged at the other. "Return my vital regions to me! I have no intention of showing _you_ any mercy!"

"You coward! You can't do anything alone!" The albino yelled over the sound of their swords clashing.

However, the other was hardly dazed by the low blow. "I would have rather heard those words from _anyone_ but you! Invasions...betrayals…the militarist Prussia!" he cried, his voice still full of confidence, although he was beginning to falter. None could match the sword fighting skill of the Prussian. But he would try, for the good of his country…

"I'll fight even if I'm all alone! As long as my king survives, I'll keep going!" he shouted, edging on until he finally brought the Austrian to his knees. He moved his sword upward across his chest in one swift motion, leaving a long gash that Roderich knew was most likely never to heal.

He closed his eyes, ready to feel the sharp bite of the steel pierce his heart, but when it did not come, he opened them again, only to see his enemy walking away. "Wait!" he shouted hoarsely, unable to stand from loss of blood. "You…do you really think you can match the countries of which you make enemies??"

But the other didn't even both to turn around. All he did was wave and call over his shoulder, much too casually for war, "For today I'll withdraw! Roderich, don't you dare forget the name of the man who will defeat you! His name is 'Gilbert Weillschmidt'!"

So the black steed dashed like wind on the narrow mountain paths. On horseback was a white-haired man in dark blue. Accompanied by his injured soldiers, he sped toward the north…

****

Prussia: The hell??? I did _not_ retreat!!

France: I get to tell the story next, yes? The only one fit for it is _moi_, after all.

Russia: Of course it will be Mother Russia, da? *smile*

Me: Umm…*backs away slowly*

Review?


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